She's Not My Girl
by inkcrane
Summary: Emma doesn't take herself as the jealous type, but there's a first time for everything. Red Swan, Storybrooke. May end up being a two-shot, let me know if you have strong feelings about that!


Slowly, Emma began to realize that Mary Margaret wasn't completely insane when she showed up at the diner every day at 7:15 in the morning just to see David. She'd just sit there with her newspaper and act pleasantly surprised when he walked through the door, as though she didn't expect to see him that morning. But there she sat, every single time, just to talk to him for three seconds or even look at him for a whole five. Emma used to think the other woman needed to chill. Emma used to think she knew everything.

But there she sat in her booth, peering over a newspaper as Ruby went about performing tasks to properly open the diner. The diner opened at 6:30 in the morning, but recently, Emma began to show up fifteen minutes earlier just to be alone with the dark haired waitress. Her excuse entailed some bullshit about needing to get to the station early because she had a lot of work to do. Ruby always smiled and let her in, and then made her a cup of coffee. Hell, she even started to make coffee early in anticipation of Emma's early arrival. It was all just a ploy to stare at the woman for a little while without the interruption of Mary Margaret or Henry or Regina or anybody else who walked through the door, and a not-so-subtle one at that. It was shameless and Emma felt a little guilty for doing it, but she couldn't help it. It only felt worse when Ruby started to finish her tasks early and took to sitting in the other side of the booth to talk for a little while, just like old friends. Ruby drilled her about Boston or her life as a bail bonds collector before she arrived in Storybrooke, and the way her green eyes lit up at even the simplest stories endeared her to the sheriff. Emma's chest ached every time she had to leave.

Longing wracked her entire body every time Ruby flirted with someone else, too. The woman liked people and enjoyed the attention, clearly, but Emma wished she'd stop. They were always simple things—the way she'd brush Regina's hand when she handed over the woman's cup of coffee, or the way she'd flash a smile at the two young men that lived just down the road. What Emma wouldn't do to have Ruby look at her like that… But she couldn't do it. No matter how many times she told herself she was going to walk up to Ruby and tell her how she felt, she talked herself out of doing it in the same minute. Gods, how stupid would she sound? _Look, Ruby, I know you don't do commitment, but I love you._ No, awful. Even in her head it sounded cheesy, and the last thing Emma wanted was to sound like some lovesick idiot, even though that assessment fit at the moment. _This is crazy and I hardly even know you outside the diner, but I really just want to lay you out on the nearest flat surface and fuck you until you scream. _Okay, entirely accurate, but all the money in the world couldn't convince Emma to say that to _anyone's_ face. The whole situation made her head swim.

And unknowingly, Ruby made it infinitely worse.

On Ruby's insistance, Mary Margaret, Emma, Ashley, and Ruby started having weekly girls nights to unwind a little. Mary Margaret and Ashley were quite pleased with their love lives currently and didn't necessarily think they _needed _a girls night, but no one said no to Ruby. Even Emma couldn't refuse, even though desperately wanted to turn down the offer and wallow in self-pity on the couch in the apartment she shared with Mary Margaret. So the torture began. Every girls night, the four would hit a bar, dance a little, drink a bit, and Ruby would flirt with anything attractive. Emma couldn't pay attention to the conversation between Ashley and Mary Margaret when the object of her desire stood across the room in a swarm of undoubtably horny men. And she looked so God damned happy about it, too. Mary Margaret could read the entire situation from what Emma gathered, too. One night when Ashley left early for a baby emergency, the petite, dark haired woman placed a hand on Emma's forearm and squeezed gently before she too left. The blonde had been staring at Ruby again. That's how these nights went. Dance, drink, watch. Dance, drink, watch. She wore red or black dresses that showed off her legs, and everybody noticed. Emma always noticed, too. There were nights Emma laid awake for hours, tense and upset, until finally the only thing she could do relieve some of the frustration was to slip her hand between her thighs and softly moan to the walls of her bedroom. It took the edge off, but it always stung when she came down from the high and remembered she was alone in her bed.

One night, Mary Margaret and Ashley bailed early again, and it shouldn't have ended any differently than usual. Emma should have slammed her last martini, eaten the olives bitterly, gone home and slept, but it didn't happen. Instead, that single martini turned into four and she speared one olive four times with each of the plastic swords that came with her drinks. Her head swam from the alcohol and intensified the mixture of anger, jealousy, and lust brewing in the pit of her stomach as she watched Ruby's hips bump those of one of the men with whom she spoke. There were three this time. The brunette hadn't paid for a drink all night, and she'd probably go home with one of these Jersey Shore jackasses, Emma figured.

Finally, something snapped in Emma's head and she slid off her chair. She moved across the bar on feet she didn't tell to move, powerless to stop what alcohol and desire fueled. Her heart thundered in her head and the sound only grew louder as she drew closer. Ruby's back was to Emma when she arrived, her approach signified as the gaze of one of the men left the brunette for a moment to focus on the newcomer over her shoulder.

Without so much as a word or a pause, Emma grabbed Ruby's upper arm, spun her, and kissed her so hard the brunette slammed her back into the edge of the bar. Her hand pressed against the brunette's lower back as she ground her hips into Ruby's, body begging for more contact. The fingers of her free hand tangled in the thick, red-streaked curls that spilled over the woman's shoulder and pulled to keep her in one place. Ruby didn't dare move. The gaggle of men Ruby entertained earlier released a collective noise of surprise, completely unable to make sense of the normally steely-nerved sheriff's actions. People who saw them hushed and stared, aghast. Emma wasn't aware of any of it. Her entire body was on fire. Surprise initially rendered Ruby unable to respond, but the beast in Emma's chest purred when she felt the taller woman's hand on her neck. The kiss intensified, all tongue and teeth and carnal need, until stars exploded in front of the blonde's eyes. They parted and she sucked in a much-needed breath of air through her teeth, but it did nothing for the dizziness and the way the entire room spun before her eyes. And then, without a sound, Emma stalked out of the bar, leaving a bewildered Ruby and stunned bar in her wake.


End file.
